


God Bless the Child That's Got Its Own

by Greenlady, Jen Hall (Greenlady)



Series: Twenty/Twenty [15]
Category: Starsky & Hutch
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-07-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:27:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24973822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenlady/pseuds/Greenlady, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Greenlady/pseuds/Jen%20Hall
Summary: Starsky and Hutch have unwelcome visitors.
Relationships: Ken Hutchinson/David Starsky
Series: Twenty/Twenty [15]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/928530
Comments: 16
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

They had been hunting a serial killer targeting gay men, but now he was safely behind bars and they had a couple of days off while the prosecutors had a go at him. They’d been exhausted when they finally got home, but not too exhausted to engage in a little recreational activity. Hutch fell asleep after love, but Starsky lay awake, tossing and turning until he got out of bed and headed for the kitchen to get a beer. Maybe that would help him sleep. He was too tired to sleep, he thought. The details of the case kept churning in his mind. 

When they’d tracked him down to his lair, the son of a bitch had shot Hutch. Not seriously, but it had still been one of the most terrifying moments of Starsky’s life so far. Then the son of a bitch had compounded his crime by claiming it wouldn’t have been murder if he’d killed Hutch because Hutch was a demon, not a human being. 

They’d only been back working together for a few weeks, too. They’d finished writing the book. Hutch had finished the courses he’d been taking at UCI; the book had been published and they were back to being partners on the force occasionally. Then the shit hit the fan. 

Thank God it had only been a slight flesh wound, Starsky told himself. But still it was hard to relax now, even though Hutch was sleeping peacefully in their own bed. The bed was the one in their apartment in Bay City, because Norco had been too far to drive since they were both so wiped. Maybe Starsky had gotten used to the peace of their house out in Norco, he thought. Maybe….

He’d been pacing up and down restlessly, looking for something, anything useful to do. Then he noticed the flashing light on their landline phone. Messages on their answering machine! That was something he could deal with.

The usual sort of spam, for the most part. Offers for interest free credit cards. Yeah sure. As if. Threats to arrest them for not paying their taxes. They always paid their taxes, what the hell! A message in a language he didn’t know, but that sounded like Chinese. 

Then, “Ken Hutchinson? Is this the number of Ken Hutchinson? Answer the phone please, Ken. Ken? Please answer the phone. Ken?” The next two messages were practically word by word copies of this one. The times were a few minutes apart, from yesterday. The voice sounded familiar, but surely….

Then today. “Ken! This is your mother. Answer the phone. I need to talk to you about that horrible book you wrote. It’s all lies. Lies do you hear me. Pastor Barnes and I are in town to see you and to straighten you out. We’ll be there this afternoon. Answer the phone!” Then another voice coming on. Interrupting: “Kenny, this is Pastor Burton, son. We’re here to help you to exorcise your demons….” 

The message tape ran out, mercifully. He heard a groan from the doorway to the bedrooms. Hutch was standing there, pale as a ghost. 

“Ah, Babe, I’m sorry. Was the answering machine too loud?”

“Huh? No, no. I couldn’t sleep. You weren’t there. I reached for you….” Starsky was across the floor in a heartbeat, pulling Hutch into his arms. 

“I’m sorry,” Starsky said again.

“Stop apologizing. Nothing’s your fault. Nothing. I’m glad I woke up. If they’re coming here today….”

“I’ll kick them out on their asses, you hear me. Don’t worry.”

“I’m sure you would, but they’ll just claim you’re Satan Incarnate and keep on trying to rescue me from you. I’ll have to deal with them myself, or they’ll never listen. God, Starsky. I figured we’d have trouble after this book was published, but not so soon, and how the hell did they get our phone number and address, anyway?”

“I guess they have their methods.”

“I guess.”

“Look, Babe, come put your head in my lap. Here. That’s it. Try and get a bit more sleep before we have to go to war again.” 

“I’ll go put my jeans on first, just to be ready. Maybe we should put our guns out of reach in case I get tempted?”

“Maybe,” said Starsky. “Not too far out of reach though, to be on the safe side. Who knows what some Evangelical pastor might try to do?”

“I would know,” said Hutch. 

Starsky shuddered. 


	2. Chapter 2

They slept for a time, cuddled up together on the couch. Almost they forgot about the impending visit from Hutch’s mother. But eventually they woke up, and came back to reality. 

“We need to get this over with,” said Hutch, as they started cooking dinner. “I know that, but I just want to go home to Norco, maybe ride Ebony around the woods for a while, then get more sleep. We’re off work for the next two days. I thought we might get to the beach at least once.”

“Sounds nice,” said Starsky. “Let’s do it. Forget your Mom and her preacher man.” And Hutch looked tempted, but then the doorbell rang. “Do you want me to answer, Babe?” 

Hutch turned the stove off, and nodded. “Go ahead,” he said. “Let’s do this and then head for the hills.” 

“Okay, but let’s eat first.”

“If I still have any appetite.”

“You will,” said Starsky. “I’ll make sure of that.” He grinned at his lover and then headed down the stairs to open the door. The apartment had no video camera at the doorway, nor any way to open the door without walking down the stairs and opening it physically, and they’d never wished for such a thing. It was better, Starsky thought to himself, to deal with unwelcome visitors in person, at the door, before allowing them inside the building, where it would be harder to get rid of them,

Starsky swung open the door, and looked out. There was Mrs. Hutchinson, Hutch’s mother. And beside her a man he’d never met in person, but had watched on YouTube videos of anti-gay preachers. “Mrs. Hutchinson,” Starsky acknowledged. “Nice to see you again,” he lied. “And you, sir?” he enquired.

“I’m Pastor Erik Burton,” the preacher responded in a deep, smarmy voice. “We’re here to see Kenny Hutchinson.”

“Okay. Who is Kenny? I know no one of that name.”

“Mr. Starsky,” said Mrs. Hutchinson. “He means my son, Ken.”

‘Then why is he calling him Kenny? No one calls him that. But Hutch…Ken is upstairs. Please follow me.” Starsky closed the door carefully behind them, as they joined him in the lobby. 

“Stairs?” said Mrs. Hutchinson. “There’s no elevator?”

“Nope. Sorry. Just stairs. You don’t like stairs?” That’s tough, he thought. 

“It’s…this is a bit of an old, shabby building, that’s all. Not a place for my son.”

It’s a lot better than some places you forced him to live in when you threw him away, thought Starsky. But he kept his thoughts to himself, for now. Best not to start a fight beforehand, though he reserved the right to jump in and continue one if it started without him.

The door to the apartment opened when they reached it. It had only been two minutes since Starsky had seen Hutch before going to answer the door, yet he was struck anew with his lover’s beauty. Hutch was now wearing the boots that added about two inches to his already impressive height. He’d also put on his shoulder holster, complete with weapon. His face was beautiful and cold as a marble statue as he waited for their guests to enter. “Hello, Mother,” he said. “Pastor Burton, I assume?”

“Oh, Ken?" said Mrs. Hutchinson. "What’s wrong, dear?”

“Nothing is wrong. What’s with the ‘dear’? Starsk, don’t stand out there like a statue. You live here, remember? Close the door behind you. I’m making coffee, Mother. Pastor Burton. Have a seat if you please. Starsky, could you bring us coffee? Thanks. Okay, Mother, what’s this all about?”

“Oh, Ken, don’t be so cold and unhappy. We’re here to help you.”

“Help me to do what?” Hutch took a seat in an easy chair, a safe distance from their visitors, where he could keep an eye on them. Though it seemed impossible, his face and his voice had grown even darker, harder, and colder. “Starsky and I caught and arrested that serial killer who was killing gay men. He’s behind bars. We don’t need your help in dealing with life, believe me.”

Starsky carried out a tray with coffee and cream and sugar. “I’ll get some mugs,” he said. 

“Thanks, dear,” said Hutch. “See, Mother?” he added. “That’s when the term means something. When you really care about the person.”

Oh, God, thought Starsky. In the first few minutes! They should get out now, before he rips them new assholes. Not that I would object to watching the process and even helping if he needs it. Though he wouldn’t. Not Hutch.

“I do care about you, Ken.”

“If you say so, Mother.”

“Kenny. Son. Your mother loves you.”

“How would you know, Bertie? This is the first time we’ve met, and I’m not your son.”

Time to intervene, thought Starsky. Just this one time, then you’re on your own, Hutch’s Chosen Victims. “Mugs!” he cried, cheerfully. “Let’s have coffee in mugs.”

“Yes. Thanks,” said Hutch. “I could kill for a cup of coffee.” He reached for the mug Starsky handed him with his right hand, and stroked his gun with his left, as it rested in his holster. 

“Um,’ said Starsky. “I’ll get us some cookies. You guys talk.”

“Mr. Starsky? Why don’t you just leave us alone now? Give us some privacy.” Pastor Burton suggested.

“No way!” said Hutch. “This is Starsky’s home, same as mine. Didn’t you notice his name at the door downstairs, next to mine. This is the Starsky/Hutchinson residence, as we announce on our answering machine. We’re married.”

“Ken! How dare you talk that way around me?”

“What way? I’m just telling you the truth.”

“It’s obscene.”

“The truth is obscene?”

“Yes, if the truth is that you are still addicted to your ugly same sex attractions. That…that sick, perverted man should go. I don’t like him.”

“That’s too bad. Mother, Mr. Starsky is going nowhere. I have no secrets from him. None. You can speak freely in front of him, whatever hateful thing you’re going to say next. He knows what you’re like.”

“We’re here in friendship, I assure you,” said Pastor Burton. “We don’t hate you. We just hate your sin.”

“Good. That’s kind of you. So now you might do us the courtesy of letting us know the purpose of this visit. We’re busy. We work for a living.”

“Work?”

‘Yes, work as police officers.”

“We thought you wrote evil books about perversion,” said Mrs. Hutchinson. “Do you make a lot of money that way?”

“Mother, what is the point of this visit? You could have saved yourself a lot of time and trouble and stayed home.”

“We’re here as your friends, like the good pastor said. We’re giving you one more chance to come home and save your soul from eternal damnation.”

“Forget it,” said Hutch. “Not interested. Thanks for your very kind, polite and loving visit but it’s time for you to leave.”

“We’re not leaving until you agree to come home.”

“Oh, yes you are leaving. Like I said, we work for a living and we were on our way to work when you showed up. Get out. Now.” Hutch got to his feet, in the stance he used on perps he was arresting. 

“Ken, we are here because we love you. We’re warning you….”

“No. I’m warning you. Leave now. This is my home and I’m within my right to order you to leave.”

“You don’t understand,” said Pastor Burton, reaching into his pocket.

Hutch pushed himself in front of Starsky, drawing his gun, which he pointed at the pastor. “Step back!” he commanded. “Take your hand out of your pocket. Now! Starsky, could you….”

Starsky was already moving to frisk him. 

“Hey! What are you doing, you sick faggot?”

“Shut up,” Starsky explained. He shoved the pastor up against the way and frisked him thoroughly. “He had this, Hutch,” he announced, showing a small pistol.

“Okay, that’s it,” said Hutch. “You’re under arrest for threatening a police officer.”

“Threatening? I wasn’t reaching for the gun.”

“No? That’s not what I saw.”

“I was reaching for a piece of paper. It’s also in my pocket.”

“The pocket with the gun?” asked Starsky.

“Yeah, you sick faggot.”

“Compliments will get you nowhere. Yeah, it’s here, Hutch. Shall I read it?”

“Sure,” said Hutch. “But you? Bertie? Keep your hands on your head and sit. Sit! There. Keep your mouth shut, hear me?”

“Ken? Dear. What’s wrong with you?”

“Mother, I am not your dear. Not since you beat the shit out of me and threw me out of the house. What’s the paper, Starsk?”

“Hah! It’s from your mother’s church. They’re suing us for libel.”


	3. Chapter 3

Their apartment seemed to be full of people, all of them on their side, much to the disapproval of Mrs. Hutchinson and Pastor Burton. Actually, there were only two new guests, but one of the guests – Lt. Miles Strachan – took up a lot of room. His friend, Dr. Alex Delaney, was less overwhelming, but rather impressive in his own quiet way. 

“Okay, so Pastor Burton, why didn’t you just announce the suit at the beginning, or near such? Why hide the fact until Sergeant Starsky found the papers in your pocket?”

“I want my lawyer present.”

“Certainly, but then we’d need to make this whole inquiry formal. Take you to the station – both of you. Sit you down in separate rooms on uncomfortable wooden chairs. Keep you waiting while your lawyer is called. Serve you bad coffee….”

“Okay, okay. We did nothing wrong. I have a license for the gun. I wasn’t about to pull it on them, I was just reaching for the papers. Can I go now?”

“Why so eager to run off?” asked the LT. “That’s a comfortable couch you’re sitting on. My friends here serve good coffee. Homemade cookies. Yum. No one is beating you with rubber hoses.”

“You went to a lot of trouble to track us down,” added Hutch. “You called us a bunch of times leaving messages on our answering machine, telling us – _telling us,_ note – that you were coming to see us. Brought a gun with you. Now you just want to take off?”

Pastor Burton sat silent. 

“Please answer my colleague’s questions, Pastor,” said the LT.

“I don’t owe him any explanation.”

“Well, yes. You do. What about you, Mrs. Hutchinson? You sit there silent while all this goes on. Did you know about the gun?”

“Yes. What of it?”

“Hutch…Sergeant Hutchinson is your son….”

“No. He’s not.”

“Wow. That’s news to me, Mother.”

“I gave birth to him, yes. To my eternal sorrow, but he’s not my son. He’s not even human. He’s a monster. The son of a demon.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, Mother.”

“Don’t you dare use the name of God. God created the human race. Male and female created he them. And you…you homosexuals destroy that. You destroy his entire creation. What excuse do you give? ‘Oh, I want to have sex with this man, so I’m entitled.’ We are going to take back the world from you demon spawn. We will punish you the way you deserve. You want to know why we came here? I came here to save you from yourself. To take you home where you belong and take care of you, because I do love you. Real love is like that, not like the sick love this…this thing gives you. We saved you once. It was hard. It hurt me more than you will ever know, but I did it for you. We saved you, and then you turned on us with hatred. You went back to that disgusting way of life. I told everyone you were dead, yes, because that was better than the so-called truth, that you were… were a monster. Then the ugly truth started trickling out, and then you wrote that obscene book….”

“Did you read the book, Mother?” asked Hutch. His face was beautiful and calm as he listened to this speech.

“Of course I didn’t read it! What do you think I am? It’s an ugly book. A disgusting book. Other people told me about it.”

“So, you trust their word over mine?”

“You’re a monster. A demon. I wouldn’t take your word over Pastor Burton’s. He’s a pastor, a real man, a real Christian. You are filth.”

“Thank you,” said Hutch. “So, why are you here, again? You could have stayed home, and sent the papers by courier.”

“I told you why!” Mrs. Hutchinson was getting angry. “I told you. I love you in spite of everything. I came here to save you. Then this so-called man you live with in disgusting sin was here. He wouldn’t leave when we asked him to. You…you were so cold, you had a gun, you wouldn’t talk to me properly with respect as your mother or to Pastor Burton, and you told us you wanted that man here.”

“Mr. Starsky treated you with respect. He brought you coffee, and cookies and talked to you with respect. He’s a nicer person than I am, but then you didn’t beat him to a pulp and put him in a conversion camp, now did you?”

“His own parents should have. I’m glad I did. We fixed you, but then you went bad again, and everyone knows it. Everyone is reading that book….”

“Except for you….”

“Shut up and listen to me. They’re going to throw me out of the church. Your father barely talks to me. They all blame me. For your sins. It’s my fault for making you a faggot. They’re punishing me for your horrible sins. What are you going to do about it?”

Hutch shrugged. “Nothing,” he said. “It’s not my fault what your church does or doesn’t do. What do you expect me to do?”

“Come home with me. Confess your sins and promise to change.”

“No.”

“Please Ken. Please. I don’t want you to burn in Hell, please.”

“You are being ridiculous, Mother. It’s your own fault you’re suffering, not mine. I have my life here, and you have your life back in Duluth. If you don’t like your life, change it. It’s that simple.”

“They’ll kick me out.”

“Good.”

“The church will still sue you over the book.”

“They can try.”

“We will take over the world and send the lot of you to prison.”

“You can try,” said Hutch, again. “LT? I’m fed up with this whole thing. Why don’t we let them go?”

“It’s up to you, Hutch,” said the LT.

“Thanks. I want to be alone with Starsky. And I never want to see these people again.”

“When we breed enough good Christians and take over this sinful country, you’ll see far more of us,” said Pastor Burton.


	4. Chapter 4

Mrs. Hutchinson and Pastor Burton turned for the door. Starsky got to his feet and opened it, held it for them politely. “Bye,” he said. “Have a nice day.”

Mrs. Hutchinson whirled, and slapped him across the face. “Shut up, you filthy sodomite,” she screamed. “How dare you talk to me like that.”

Hutch jumped to his feet before she had finished speaking. He grabbed his mother and pushed her away, gently but firmly. “Okay, that’s enough. Now you are up on assault charges.”

“No, Hutch. I’m okay,” said Starsky.

“Oh, you admit I was right?” said Mrs. Hutchinson. “You know I’m right. You know what you are.”

“Yeah,” said Starsky. “I know exactly what I am. I’m Ken Hutchinson’s husband. I’m his lover. I’m the man who has his heart and his body and his soul in my care. I’m the man he sleeps with every night. I’m the man who fights by his side every day. I’m the man who is fully prepared to protect him with my life. I’m the man who would take a bullet for him and see myself as blessed for it. I have his love. You have nothing. Nothing, because you threw him out. I can forget and forgive a slap from you because I have Hutch’s love and you threw it away. I’m going to make fresh coffee guys. I’ll be in the kitchen.”

“Yeah, in the kitchen where you belong. A man who lets another man have sex with him, a man who….”

“I fuck him, Mother, and he fucks me. Use plain English. You let a man fuck you -- my father, I assume.”

“I’m a woman,” she was back to screaming. “That’s what God intended.”

“Great. Well you can go home now to what God intended, and never attempt to contact me again, for any reason. Got that? You’re lucky getting off so easily, because I would have dragged you in and charged you with assault. Verbal as well as physical. Leave. Now.”

“He’s killed your soul, you know that. You have no soul any longer. I can see it in your eyes.”

“Really, Mother. I think you should leave right now, without another word. Stop embarrassing yourself, please.”

Pastor Burton had been listening to all this with a pleased smile on his face. “You’re the embarrassing one,” he noted. “No wonder your mother threw you out.”

“You get out, both of you!” said Hutch. “Go back to breeding hate-filled bigots, since it’s all you’re good for.”

“You go back to letting that man run your life. Letting him _fuck you?_ You even admit it. You seem proud that you let a man treat you like a woman.”

“Out!” said Hutch.

“I don’t treat him like a woman,” said Starsky, from the kitchen doorway. “I treat him like a man. He’s my man, and I know it.”

“So, you’re the woman, then?” Pastor Burton sneered.

Starsky snorted. 

“Oh, for God’s sake,” said Hutch. “Get out of my house with your ridiculous nonsense. Go read a book about real same-sex relationships. My book, for example. It’s actually our book, you know. Starsky’s and mine. Starsky wrote a whole section on gay history, and real gay relationships. Your heads are full of trash on the subject and you need an education. But I can’t deal with that here and now. I’m sick of you.”

“Excuse me, Hutch,” Lt. Strachan spoke up. “If you would permit me, I volunteer as Tribute to escort the lady and gentleman down to their vehicle.”

Hutch chuckled. “Thanks, LT. I can’t seem to convince them to leave. Mother? Pastor? I strongly suggest you don’t give Lt. Strachan any argument. He’s way tougher than I am.”

“Even if I am gay,” said the LT. “I’m in no mood to fool around. The householders here have both asked you to leave. Leave now, or I will call up an entire contingent of uniformed patrol officers to escort you off the premises. In handcuffs if necessary.” He advanced on them, and they gave way, as did most people confronted with his impressive size and presence.

They headed for the stairs, the LT after them. Hutch shut the door, and sighed. He leaned his head against the door. Starsky came up behind him and took him in his arms. “Come here, Blintz,” he said. 


	5. Chapter 5

It was early morning. Way too early for Starsky to be up and around, thought Hutch. He groggily opened his eyes, and checked Starsky’s face for clues to explain this odd occurrence. Starsky looked seriously pissed. “Hey, Babe,” said Starsky. “Sorry to wake you, but I thought you needed to know what’s going down as early as possible.”

“Okay,” said Hutch, vaguely. “So what is going down?”

“It’s your mother and her pet pastor. They’re on the news.”

“On the news? Doing what?”

“Talking.”

“Talking? Oh, God.”

“Yeah. Oh, God is right.”

Mrs. Hutchinson and Pastor Burton were giving a press conference of some sort on the early news. They were explaining their suit against Hutch and the others involved in his book. But they were also holding forth on the evils of the modern age, all or most of which were caused by sodomites and their friends. 

Pastor Burton was giving a speech about the harm it had caused when people stopped going to church on a regular basis, and when the evil sodomites had convinced everyone they were normal. Everyone but himself and other good Christians. Sodomy was all about ugly, painful sex and anal germs and AIDS, not love, whatever the sodomites said about it. Take the title of her son’s book, Mrs. Hutchinson suggested. All about love. He called it love, not sin. But all the time he was living with an evil demon. Engaging in sin with a demon, instead of praying to Jesus to help him resist his evil sins and….

Hutch turned the TV off and turned to Starsky. “I’m so sorry,” he began.

“Oh, don’t you dare,” said Starsky. “Don’t you dare apologize. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“They were ignoring us until I wrote that book.”

“Until _you_ wrote it? You’re forgetting that I did some of the writing and so did your grandmother.”

“Which neither of you would’ve done if not for me.”

“We might’ve, but that’s not the point. If your parents hadn’t mistreated you, you wouldn’t have to write the book, Hutch. They didn’t want you to speak for yourself, to speak up and out. They wanted you to keep silent, like they always have. Do you remember? Not remember yourself, but remember our history, before Stonewall, when society, psychiatrists, religion, the police – everyone – they kept us so totally in the closet we were buried up to our necks in hate. We couldn’t even, the two of us, it would’ve been illegal for the two of us, two gay men, to even meet, to even be in a room together, let alone sleep together. Then we came out, gay people I mean, we came out and fought back, and made people look at us as human. This was all before we were born, and sometimes we forget, and we think that we always had this freedom, but we didn’t. We have it now because we spoke up. We can’t stop now, Hutch.” 

Starsky stopped to catch his breath, and Hutch’s arms came around him. “I know,” he said in his ear. “But I don’t want you to have to put up with all this shit.”

“I don’t want to put up with it either, but that’s life. We all have to put up with a certain amount of shit before we die, and this is mine. The alternative is murder, Hutch, and murder is illegal, and we’re officers of the law, sworn to uphold the laws as they stand. If I have to put up with shit, I’d rather it was for you, because you give me compensation. Lots and lots of delicious compensation. Speaking of which….” Starsky stepped back at bit to give Hutch a good look up and down. “You’re naked.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Why don’t you lie down on the couch here, and….”

The phone rang. “Dammit!” said Starsky. ‘Let me answer it. If it’s your mother….hello?”

“Hi, Starsky. It’s me, Starsky, your friendly neighbourhood editor.”

“Oh, hi, Jonathan. How are you today?”

“Fine, actually, and anticipating all the thousands of extra readers of your book, created by the threatened lawsuits. Is Hutch there with you?”

“Um…yeah, um….”

“I don’t need the details, but I need to tell you both not to worry. We’ve got our legal team on the case, and my very own hot, sexy demon – you know Bill? – willing to work pro bono for anyone personally affected by it. It’s so useful to be married to a lawyer, you know?”

Starsky had put the phone on speaker, and Hutch was sitting up staring at it, in stupefaction. “You’re happy about the lawsuit, Jonathan?”

“Well, yeah. They’re suing us for publishing your book, and Hutch, they’re not going to win. You’re not imagining they’ll win, are you? Hutch, darling, this is America, the 21st century, and everything in your book was fact checked into the ground. They might not like it, but they can’t do anything about it. They can try, but it’s Bill’s opinion it won’t even go to a trial. If it does, we’ll use that for publicity, and sell more books, and make more money. We may even get a movie deal out of it. Imagine the publicity….”

“Jonathan, that wasn’t why I wrote the book!”

“Sure it was. Darling, the more publicity we get, the better. The more this story is in the news, the better for all those young gay people out there. You wanted the laws changed so young gay people couldn’t be forced to go to gay conversion camps. That’s what you told me.”

“I did. I’m sorry, Jonathan, it’s just that….”

“You’re thrown by all this. Of course you are. I totally understand. Families are the worst, sometimes. Look, I just wanted to reassure you guys. Don’t worry, like I said. Our legal team is on it. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Sure, Jon,” said Starsky. “Hutch will be fine.”

“Will I be fine?” asked Hutch, after Starsky hung up the phone. 

“You will,” Starsky averred. “Remember the title of your book.”

“Yes,” said Hutch. “Love _is_ Strong as Death.”


End file.
